


Stay

by Simplydesires



Category: The Exception (2016), The Kaiser's Last Kiss - Alan Judd
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, War Torn Lovers, War babies, You deserve a soft epilogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 17:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18665167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simplydesires/pseuds/Simplydesires
Summary: Stefan lives and finds Mieke seven years after the war.Potential smutty 2-shot, if there are enough people who are into this.





	Stay

I took a long last drag of my cigarette as I looked at the door of 15 Kensington.

"Fuck it."

_It's better to get it over with than to wallow in hopeful misery._

I snuffed the cigarette on the sidewalk and climbed the steps to the door, only pausing a second before knocking. 

It had been seven years since that morning in the forest when I last felt her cool lips. I hadn’t heard from her since she mailed that damned book. I don’t know if she hadn’t sent anything else on purpose, or if it was the war, but I had come, as she told me to—hoping against hope—that her heart had not forgotten me. 

_I wouldn’t blame her. Seven years is a long time to remember the feelings a handful of fucks kindled during a war._

The door opened, but instead of _her_ , stood a little girl no older than eight with brown eyes and honey hair in a white dress.

_This is the wrong house._

My stomach dropped at the thought. Even if we were never to be, I wanted to see her one last time. 

The girl was expecting someone else too because her brows furrowed and she asked stubbornly, “Who are you?” 

Instantly charmed, I replied, “I am Stefan and who are you?” 

“Stephanie,” she said with a slight squirm. 

“Stephanie, that is a pretty name.” 

She didn’t respond. She just continued to look at me, warily, "You talk funny." 

I grimaced, “Yes, I'm not from here. Stephanie is your mother home? Can I speak with her?” 

She nodded and ran away leaving the door open calling out, “Mama! Mama, there is a funny man at the door.” 

Hearing footsteps, I stood up, legs shoulder length apart with my hands behind my back—forever the soldier. 

My stance saved me from betraying myself at seeing her whiskey eyes again. 

“Mieke,” I said but I didn’t move, my body stuck in the only role I had known. 

_How does a lover stand?_

“C—captian Brandt!” she exclaimed with a stammer and flush. 

She was stuck in the roles we once occupied too. 

“Stefan, please. I’m—I’m not a captain anymore.” 

_I am not anyone, to anybody anymore._

“Yes, yes, of course. Won’t you please come in? I will put the kettle on.” 

I nodded and followed her into her small apartment. It was tidy, just as her room had been at the Kaiser’s house. The only mess was on the floor in front of the fireplace where I saw Stephanie with her colors and pictures. 

“I am sorry for the mess, Stephanie loves drawing. And she likes coloring on the floor best.” Mieke spoke quickly, walking back into her apartment. 

_Her daughter._

My stomach knotted at what the meant. 

_There is someone else._

“There is no need to apologize. She’s lovely—your daughter.” 

Mieke’s eyes brightened, flicking to her daughter then back to me and her smile twisting, “Yes, she is, isn’t she.” 

Before I can say anything else, she gestured for me to sit at the gateleg table in her small kitchenette as she moved to turn on the stove and reached for the biscuit tin. 

Stephanie followed us into the kitchen and pulled on Mieke’s dress. “Mama, can I have tea too?” 

Mieke looked between me and her daughter, her eyebrows furrowed, “Not right now, love. Mama would like to have tea with Mr. Brandt alone.” 

When Stephanie protested, Mieke kneeled in front of her and offered her a bargain, “We won’t be long and then we will have tea when he leaves, yes? You can have three biscuits for being so patient and quiet.” 

I swallowed and sighed deeply at Mieke’s words. They told me all I needed to know about whatever space I had in her life. 

_Fleeting. Gone._

“But I always have tea with you!” Stephanie whined. 

“I know, love, but Mr. Brandt is an—uh—old friend of mama’s from the war. And we need to talk alone for a little while.” 

Stephanie finally agreed, but the glare she gave me over her shoulder made it obvious she didn’t understand why she couldn’t have tea with her mother and her guest. 

Mieke shooed Stephanie into the front room but the cry of the kettle quickly brought her back to the kitchen. 

She serenely set the brown betty on the table but when she brought the teacups the rattle of the saucers betrayed her. She poured my tea then her own, before sitting down across from me, her hands folded under the table in her lap. 

There was a beat where neither of us spoke. I didn’t know what to say, now that I felt that what I came here to say would no longer welcome. 

I sipped my tea, before clearing my throat, “Your flat is nice.” I laid the cup in its saucer. It was too sweet, but it didn’t matter. I would be gone soon enough. 

Her smile at the compliment barely cracked her face, “Thank you, I try. I am glad it is so small, or I couldn’t keep up with it at all.” 

I hummed in reply. “Are you working?” I pushed the cup around the saucer, not looking at her, finding the orbit of the porcelain an easy distraction. 

“Yes—at a small girl’s primer school—Stephanie's school in fact. She will be starting in the fall.” 

I took another sip, looking at her over the rim of my cup, “You won’t be teaching Nietzsche then, I suppose?” 

Even though I knew I shouldn’t bring up the talisman that brought me to her door, I couldn’t help it. I needed to know. I needed to know my place in her life. 

My heart clenched when I saw the white of her teeth in her smile, “No, no Nietzsche—yet.” 

The silence that fell stretched longer than the last. She nervously pulled her chain from her neck and tugged at the pendant. 

I should have left the sleeping dog lie, but I couldn’t. 

“Are you married?” 

Mieke’s eyebrows furrowed and I saw a shadow pass over her face. 

“Not anymore.” 

I clenched my jaw, nodded and looked into my teacup, twirling it around the saucer once more. Betrayal rolled in my gut. 

_I should have known that she wouldn't be different. No good woman chooses me._

“What happened to hi—” I couldn’t bring myself to look at her this time. 

“—He died,” She bit out quickly. 

_You shouldn’t have come._

I pulled my head up and forced myself to look at her. Mieke’s eyes shined and her cheeks were blotched red as she clutched the pendant to her heart. 

“I’m sorry,” I said my tongue suddenly thick. Collecting myself with a quick inhale, I licked my lips, and looked over her shoulder, toward the living room, “Is—is he Stephanie’s father?” 

I saw a tear fall before Mieke looked away with a huff. She shook her head, her tone restrained but heated, “No, he is not. My husband—.” She stopped to take a shuddering breath before continuing, “One year before I even met you—was shot by the Gestapo—along with my father.” 

I should have felt more shame for pressing that truth from her. While my stomach hotly rolled—my heart beat high in my throat with hope. I couldn't bring myself to feel too sorry, but I said the words all the same. 

Another beat passed, hope heating my gut and I finally asked, "Am I—Is she—?” 

“Yes. You ignorant arse! Who do you think she is named after!” 

I rocked back in my chair, stunned. I struggled to keep a smile from curling my lip. _I have a daughter_

She continued, her words spilling nervously onto the table, “I tried to write, but the post office wouldn’t allow me to send letters to Berlin.” 

I leaned forward and pulled her free hand into mine. Caressing her knuckles with my thumb, I opened my mouth to speak. 

Before I could, Stephanie came into the room and Mieke pulled her hand from my grasp and turned to look at her daughter. I clutched at air. 

“Mama, are you done yet? I am hungry.” 

Mieke rolled her eyes, giving me an apologetic look before addressing Stephanie. “Yes, love, we are done. Here, you can have my cup and biscuits.” 

Stephanie looked at me defiantly, before hopping on her mother’s lap and grabbing a biscuit off her plate. She didn’t look away from me as she ate. 

I could also sense Mieke’s eyes on me as I looked at the girl who was my daughter. She had her mother’s eyes, warm like aged bourbon, but her hair was mine, blonde and mellow. 

I never thought I would never live long enough to be a father or that anyone would want my children. For both to be suddenly true—nearly unmanned me. 

\--------------------------------------- 

“So, do you have someone, somewhere Mr. Brandt?” Mieke quietly asked after Stephanie finished her tea and ran back to the living room. 

“Yes,” I said looking at her. 

“Oh,” she said ducking her head, her cheeks flushed. “Of course.” 

_She misunderstood me._

“She told me to come find her after the war,” I clarified. 

Mieke whipped her head back to meet my eyes, her mouth gaping. A beat passed with us staring at each other, and then another. Finally, she broke the connection and looked at her hands on the table. 

“And you? Do you have a lover?" I said with a knowing smirk. 

Mieke looked back at me, a breathless smile on her lips. 

_So she does remember, just as I do._

“I—I did, once, during the war,” she said, her eyes glittering. 

“Mieke—” 

“You found me.” 

“—like you asked me to.” 

“That—that was years ago. I thought you would come sooner and when you didn’t—I thought you were dead!” 

I shrugged and nodded my head, “—but I am not.” 

“No—no you’re not,” she said quietly looking back down at her fidgeting fingers. 

I blew out a breath before I spoke the truth she wouldn’t, “But you wish I were.” 

“No, no, no, no—NO. Never that. I never wanted that, no. It’s just that—” 

“Just what?” 

“We are strangers! I barely know you.” 

“We have a child!” 

“We share a child, yes, but—we barely spent five days together—seven years ago. Everything has changed.” 

“I haven’t—not that much.” 

“No?” 

“I will do my duty—by you—by her.” 

She growled and turned away from me staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t want your duty.” 

“What then?—my heart? You have that too.” 

She turned back to meet my gaze. “Oh, Stefan, but how? What we had—it happened in a different life, to different people.” 

“Maybe," I shrugged. "—but I still remember," I finished softly. 

“I remember too.” She whispered. 

“Is it too late, Mieke?” I tried to keep the desperate hope out of my voice. 

“I — I don’t know." 

I nodded, swallowing my heart to clear my throat, “I — I understand." 

I felt my heart squeeze painfully, and my breath hitch. I moved to leave before I succumbed to the sudden urge to weep at her feet. 

“I shouldn’t have come. You’re right. It has been too long.” 

I stood to leave, but she grabbed my hand, staring up at me. “No—stay.” 

When I continued to stare at her, she pulled my hand closer to her heart, “Stay.” 

I nodded and sat back down; our hands still clutched over the table. 

_I never wanted to leave_

**Author's Note:**

> Yay, nay? Should I continue? I have a brief sketch of a smut second chapter, but I just thought I would post this, instead of letting rot in my docs folder. I will gladly freshen up the second chapter if there is interest.


End file.
